


Quiet

by Kittenbedtimestories



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Post-Canon, kind of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-01
Updated: 2020-04-01
Packaged: 2021-02-28 18:21:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 421
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23421607
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kittenbedtimestories/pseuds/Kittenbedtimestories
Summary: Quiet moments at 221B are few and far between, and John wouldn't trade this one for the world.
Relationships: Sherlock Holmes/John Watson
Comments: 10
Kudos: 45
Collections: Sherlock Fandom VS 2020





	Quiet

**Author's Note:**

> [Originally posted on Wattpad under the same username, then on likepuppetsonastring.tumblr.com] SPOILER ALERT. Not a ton is spoiled, but if you haven’t seen any of the new season yet, MOVE ALONG AND WATCH THAT FIRST. Come back to this tumblr tag when you’ve watched it, it’s better if you don’t have it spoiled for you.

“Sherlock?”  
John frowned up the stairs, shifting the shopping to his other hand and shaking out the one that’d been carrying it the entire way back. It was oddly silent, which was usually not a good sign. He was used to being greeted by Rosie’s chatter and giggling, Mrs. Hudson’s chattering in baby talk or ranting at Sherlock, or, on particularly bad days, to a note from Mrs. Hudson saying she and Rosie were out on a walk and the sound of gunshots and “BORED!”  
Today, he was greeted by nothing at all.

Deciding that perhaps shouting had been a bad idea, he took the stairs quietly, straining for every sound and trying to calculate how long it’d take to reach his gun and if he could do it before someone had time to get to him. Every creak made his heart pump faster and his grip on the banister tighter.  
He paused at the top of the stairs to listen at the door. All he could hear on the other side was what might be breathing. Slowly, he turned the knob, and opened the door just a crack…then a little more…and then it was all the way open.

The sight was not what he expected.  
Scattered all over the floor were Rosie’s toys. Her little building blocks, a chunky book called Goodnight Moon, and, for some reason, a bib were in something of a trail leading up to Sherlock’s chair, which was vacant except for his violin and bow, and a small stuffed bear. Glancing at the kitchen, John saw Rosie’s high chair, covered in some unidentifiable baby food, set up by the table, with an arm’s reach of clean space cleared off next to it.  
When his eyes swept back across the room, they landed on the couch.  
He was caught somewhere between surprise and the biggest smile he’d ever had on his face.

Sherlock was fast asleep, a rare enough occurrence on its own. His blue bathrobe was tangled under him, sleeves pushed up unevenly, and his hair was properly a mess as opposed to its usual styled mess. He seemed to have a few splotches of the baby food on him as well, staining his t-shirt.  
Curled up on his chest was Rosie, fast asleep, also covered in food, one hand wrapped around one of Sherlock’s fingers.  
Both of them were smiling in their sleep.

John shook his head, trying not to laugh too loudly as he started to clean up. Today, he didn’t mind.


End file.
